


How It All Began

by Artsortment



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artsortment/pseuds/Artsortment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look into Darth Vader's thoughts when he finds out that the name of the rebel who blew up the Death Star.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How It All Began

**Author's Note:**

> I have been an avid Star Wars fan for many years, but I just couldn't enjoy the prequels. I didn't care about the characters or what happened to them. Then I read the novelization of Revenge of the Sith, and it all changed. Suddenly I cared about Anakin and Padme just as much as I cared about their progeny. I loved the book so much, it made me wish someone would re-visit the novelizations of the original trilogy to add the thoughts of Vader, Obi-Wan, and Yoda now that we know their backstory. So this is my attempt at delving into Vader's thoughts (knowing what I now know about him as Anakin from the novelization of RotS) when he finds out his son is alive.

Darth Vader looked out the bridge viewport of the Executor. He stared at the countless stars and planets that twinkled in the black field. To most, looking at such a sight would be cause for joy or wonder. For Lord Vader, it was tinted red, like the rest of his world. To Lord Vader, it was merely a reminder of how many rocks he had yet to turn over in his hunt for the rebels. Especially one, unnamed rebel, who seemed to have mysteriously escaped the Empire's purge of force sensitives.

He heard footsteps approach him. The hardened soles of officer boots clacking along the steel deck. He did not turn, even as Captian Piett saluted and began to speak.

"Lord Vader, I have the report our spies compiled on the rebels that escaped us at Yavin."

Darth Vader turned to face Piett. He noted the roundabout way in which the officers had come to speak of the catastrophic failure that was the Death Star. Of course, that was not his failure. That was the failure of arrogant fools who thought they could wield a power greater than the Force. No, his failure was in his inability to locate and kill that one nameless rebel.

Vader took the datapad from Piett and turned to walk briskly to his meditation chamber.

Vader didn't pause to seal the rejuvenation pod as he sat and activated the datapad. He flipped through the first few pages until he came to the list of rebels on whom the report would provide intelligence. He had barely glanced at the page when one name screamed at him from it. No, not screamed, roared. It leapt from the page and tore through years of walls and shields and gripped onto his core with savage claws.

_Skywalker_

If Darth Vader had still been capable of controlling his own throat he would have choked. He ignored the first third of the document to skip to the appropriate section. There was the name again, in the bold, enlarged letters of a subsection heading.

_Skywalker_

Luke Skywalker to be specific. As he continued to read the claws dug deeper into him as the horrible truth screamed at his from the pages.

This was his son.

Even as he tried to deny it, the report all but confirmed it to anyone who knew what to look for. Two words floated off the screen at him, words of a lifetime ago: Tattooine, Lars. Then another name came to mind in a shock of realization.

_Kenobi!_

Vader snarled, anger rearing up and blazing red hot in his ears. Kenobi. Kenobi had betrayed him again. He had done this. He had hidden the boy on Tattooine, the one place Kenobi knew he would never go. He had stolen the boy from his father and given him his father's name. To mock him! To taunt him because he was...

Suddenly Vader caught himself. He had been about to think a name he had not thought in years. One he could not dare begin to identify with again. And yet, the boy _was_ his son. That much he could admit without letting himself be tainted by that man who was just a whisper. A whisper that, though silenced for decades was beginning to speak to him again. But, he would not listen. That man was dead. And yet, here was a son. A son who was powerful in the Force. That much was clear from their brief encounter at Yavin. Yes, powerful but untrained. If he was this strong without training, with it he would be more powerful than...

Vader cut himself off again, not daring to hope. He had weakened, yes, choked off from the immense power he had once wielded. The Force only came to him now thorough a hole in the dam that was this accursed armor and mechanics. He was no longer a match for Palpatine, but this boy... Luke...

In that moment, Vader understood his master as he never had before. What his master must have felt when looking at that Jedi so many times more powerful than himself decades before. Vader knew that at his prime, the Emperor would have been no match for him. Not so now. But this boy. Luke...

If he could be trained, if he could be turned, he would be immensely powerful - more powerful than himself, yes, but more importantly, more powerful than the Emperor. Vader's mind was racing now. Yes, if he were to train Luke, together they could overthrow the Emperor. At last Vader would be free of his sickly chokehold. No longer a kneeling servant, but a master of his own destiny. No longer the slave he had been for all his life. And, they would bring freedom, order, and peace to the galaxy.

_'Isn't how this all started?'_ a voice whispered, _'You deciding you knew what was best for the galaxy, and for others? You being selfish?'_

Vader snarled and buried the whisper he could not, would not name. He buried it deep into the recesses of his heart, deep into that place that still mourned for... her. That regretted how they had betrayed... him. No, he would beat that whisper back into that forsaken corner. Shoved it in deep and sealed it away.

He composed himself. He was Darth Vader. Of that there was no question. No question at all, he reassured himself. He flipped back to the first page of the report and began to read, ever the lord of the Sith, imposing and dark. His soul and heart an impenetrable fortress. Except now there was a crack. And from that crack the whisper called out.

_'Anakin!'_


End file.
